A forlorn  woman  discovered  by  one  of  our 
missionaries  in  the  depths  of  Central  Africa, 
when  told  the  old,  old  story,  exclaimed,  “Oh 
that  is  He  who  has  come  so  often  to  me  in 
my  prayers!  I could  not  find  who  He  was.” 

In  darkness  and  in  sin  1 sought  the  shrine 
Of  heathen  gods  to  comfort  in  distress; 

I offered  up  my  child,  all  that  was  mine, 

A sacrifice,  my  woeful  soul  to  bless. 

ily  darling  suffered  on  the  altar  high; 

My  heart  was  wrung  with  anguish  and 
despair; 

No  deity  was  moved  to  hear  my  sigh, 

Xor  priest  could  take  away  my  load  of  care. 

At  length  in  agony  of  soul,  I said: 

“If  there  be  any  God  who  dwells  above, 

< Who  to  His  temple  hath  the  lowly  led, 

Speak  out  of  darkness,  speak  in  tenderest 
love. 

If  light  Divine  abides  in  yonder  sky, 

Where  brightest  glory  lights  the  blazing 
suu. 

Oh,  come,  responsive  to  my  helpless  cry! 

Oh,  come  and  tell  me  of  salvation  won!” 

A voice,  the  sweetest  I had  ever  heard, 

In  accents  tender  whispered,  “Peace,  be 
still! 

For  poor  and  needy  ones  my  love  hath  shared, 
In  life  and  death  I’ll  keep  from  every  ill.” 

Nor  has  He  left  me  from  that  blessed  hour, 
Oft  has  He  spoken  to  my  raptured  soul; 
He’s  ever  near  to  keep  me  by  His  power. 

And  point  me  upward  to  a heavenly  goal. 

His  name,  a mystery  then,  I could  not  tell; 

1 called  Him  Father,  Brother,  Saviour, 
Friend; 

He  answered  to  them  all,  each  fitted  well, 

And  promised  to  my  soul  a peaceful  end. 

Oh!  now  I know  that  name — the  dearest  name 
Of  any  spoken  in  a sinner’s  ear: 

’Tis  Jesus!  you  have  come  to  teach  the  same; 
My  way  is  hedged  about,  my  path  is  clear. 

And  now  with  Jesus  as  my  Saviour,  Friend, 
I’ll  brave  the  dangers  of  the  pilgrim’s  road, 
Waiting  with  eager  gladness  for  the  end, 

To  bring  me  home  in  safety  to  my  God. 
Amity,  N.  Y.,  Nov.,  1904.  R.  H.  CRAIG. 


